I slip my phone back into my pocket, ignoring Dean’s message. I won’t allow him to spoil the night, not when things have been going so well. “Yeah, everything’s okay. It’s just Dean asking how my night is going. I’ll give him a call later tonight,” I assure him.
“I take it you and Dean are going strong?” His gaze now fixed solely on mine.
I give a slow nod. “Yeah, but we’re still getting to know each other.”
“And he’s treating you alright?”
“He is. I mean, he has his moments, but for the most part he’s been really sweet and attentive.”
His brows furrow. “What do you mean he has his moments?”
“It’s only minor things, nothing worth worrying over.”
He nods slowly, but I can tell he wants to press for more details. Instead, he asks, “So, you think he’s the one?” His gaze lingers, soft and questioning, as though he’s searching for something. Reassurance, maybe. But for what, I’m not too sure.
“Are we back to playing twenty-one questions again?” I chuckle softly.
Over the past few months, our little game had gradually fizzled out as I spent less time with him and more time with Dean. I’dleave as soon as he got home, and though he still offered me a beer each time, I’d often turn it down. But it’s during nights like this, when I find myself really missing those earlier days.
The last time we played, he’d just admitted that he and Gemma had broken up so he could focus on growing his business and spending more time with Jake. From what he told me, their relationship was casual from the start, and that it was bound to end sooner or later.
The sound of Jason’s breathy laugh reels me back in, and I quickly take a sip of my water. “I think we’re past that now, Rivera. What I’m really getting at is: be sure you take your time with him. I’m not saying I’m a relationship expert, but after rushing into one myself, I’ve learned it’s better to go slow and steady. Don’t let yourselves get carried away. Give yourselves the time to truly get to know each other, because that little bit of extra time can make all the difference.”
He’s absolutely right. Ever since we’ve become exclusive, Dean and I have barely spent any time apart. I’ve met most of his family and friends already, and we’ve even been staying at each other’s apartments for nights on end.
But the one thing that had me pausing and taking a step back was when he suggested I break my lease and move in with him. As much as I appreciated knowing he wanted me around more, it all just felt too much too soon.
“Thanks, Jase. I’ll definitely keep that in mind.”
“Good,” he says softly. “I’m here for you, Mila. Whenever you need me. Always remember that.”
“I will,” I reply with a sincere smile, knowing deep down that no words or promises carry more weight than his.
CHAPTER 18
Mila
I arrive at my apartment building shortly after 8 p.m., the savoury scent of sizzling onions wafting through the hallway of the second floor. I bet it’s Mrs Cooper making her famous tuna pasta bake again. If I weren’t already full from the pizza, I’d be at her door in a heartbeat. Her home cooked meals are just superb.
Before leaving the Hawkins residence, Jason had paid me for my usual hours, despite relieving me of my duties a few hours early. I tried to refuse the payment, but he kept insisting, arguing I couldn’t leave until I accepted it. I could’ve fought him some more, but I was eager to get home and call Dean. I knew he’d be fuming from our recent interaction and for never responding back to his last message.
I unlock the door and step into my dark, quiet apartment. As I flip the light switch on, a loud gasp escapes my throat, the keys in my hand nearly slipping from my grasp. There, sitting on my couch, is Dean, casually holding a tumbler filled with amber liquid, while a half empty bottle of Johnny Walker sits on the coffee table in front of him.
He’s leaning back with his legs spread apart, one hand resting on his knee while the other drapes over the armrest, drink in hand. The expression on his face is unreadable, and his usually immaculate appearance is uncharacteristically disheveled. His white polo shirt is rumpled, and his hair is slightly tousled, as if he’s spent the night running his hands through it. The sight of him unsettles me, a quiet warning that something is very off.
Placing my bag and keys on the kitchen island, I slowly and cautiously make my way towards him. “Hey. What are you doing sitting in the dark all by yourself?”
Without responding, he brings the tumbler to his mouth and takes a slow sip of his drink, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine. A minute passes before he finally speaks. “Was just waiting for you to get home.” His voice is steady yet cold.
“You didn’t tell me you were coming over tonight.”
“Had you responded to my text earlier, I would’ve told you.”
“I’m sorry for not replying sooner. I was planning to call you as soon as I got home so we could talk properly.”
He scoffs bitterly, tossing back his drink in one swift motion. Keeping his gaze locked on mine, he leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. “Hope you hadfunplaying house with Jason, because that’s the last time you’ll ever do that with him.”
“Is that a threat? Are you drunk?”
